A rush of blood pulsed through Debra so quickly that she felt unsteady on her feet. Billie Brown—the woman who didn’t let anyone into her home, who didn’t offer softness unless it had a purpose, and who’d survived by being untouchable—was asking her that. “Yes. I’d love that.”
“Good.” Billie’s eyes landed on Debra’s mouth again. “I’ve been thinking about feeding you all morning.”
Debra let out a startled laugh as heat rushed to her cheeks. “Billie!”
Billie’s lips curved. “Too much?”
“Not enough.” Debra, still flustered, suddenly feltveryhot under the collar. “Or too much. I don’t know.”
Billie’s eyes darkened, and Debra noted it immediately. The hunger and the intensity…the need she used to hide behind control. Only now it wasn’t frightening or intimidating. No, it was all-consuming.
Billie blinked as she forced herself back into work mode. “Come over for seven?”
Debra nodded and took a few steps towards the door. “Seven it is.”
“And Debra?”
She looked back over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“Wear something comfortable.” Billie’s voice dipped. “And don’t expect me to behave either.”
Debra’s stomach flipped when Billie turned away and walked towards the corridor. She watched her go, heat scorching low in the pit of her stomach. God, she had no idea what she was in for tonight, but wasn’t that a part of the thrill? Damn right it was.
Chapter Thirty
Debra hadn’t madeit more than ten steps away from Brown & Co. before she realised she was smiling like a complete fool, and it wasn’t even subtle. She caught her own reflection in the window of a parked car—her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright—and she had to force herself to look away before she embarrassed herself further.
Get a grip.
But she couldn’t. Not when Billie had looked at her like that. Not when Billie had said ‘I’ve been thinking about feeding you all morning’with that dangerous little glint in her eye, unashamed of wanting anymore and not caring at all who knew it.
She crossed the street and slowly unbuttoned her coat. God, she felt as though something had woken up beneath her skin and it refused to settle back down, the heat almost too much to take.
Seven o’clock.
She couldn’t believe Billie would be cooking for her. So much had changed in the last twenty-four hours, so much had shifted and fallen into place, but she had no intentions of sitting with it and figuring it all out. She’d spent her life basing decisions onwhatever she could think up, but not with Billie. Debra was fully prepared to go into this head-on.
Her mind drifted to those final moments before she’d stepped out of the shop. Billie telling her to wear something comfortable, as if Debra had no idea she would be naked before the end of the night. As though Billie had any intention of letting her leave her apartment tonight untouched.
Debra exhaled a shaky breath and forced her brain to focus on the practical side of today.Shopping. She wassupposedto be shopping. She even had a list. But as she walked into the first shop she came across, she immediately forgot what she was supposed to be doing. All she’d noticed as she’d entered was the bright window display of cashmere jumpers and winter loungewear.
“Comfortable.” Debra snorted.
Shewouldwear comfortable clothes because she wasn’t trying to seduce Billie with a pencil skirt and heels tonight. No, tonight was about slipping into Billie’s space and feeling like she belonged there. It was about lounging on her couch with a glass of wine. It was about letting Billie see her in comfy clothes and loose hair, while that connection continued to spark between them.
It was about the domesticity, and it was about making herself at home in Billie’s life. But Debra wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t showing up in comfortable clothes because she was giving Billie peace; she was showing up in comfortable clothes because she was giving Billie access.
And that was averydifferent thing.
She trailed her fingers over a rail of sweaters, pretending to care, pretending she wasn’t thinking about the lingerie she already had at home. The pieces she’d bought on a whim when she’d first caught Billie’s attention. She hadn’t wanted to book in with Billie for the lingerie service, simply because she’d wantedto surprise her when the time came. Only it never came. Not when she’d expected it to, anyway.
But now the time is here…
She could picture it now. The soft lace…a matching set. It didn’t scream for attention, but it didn’t hide either. Delicate, feminine…absolutely designed to be discovered slowly.
Debra swallowed, her pulse kicking up as her thoughts shifted. They weren’t quite explicit, she wasn’t stupid enough to put herself through a day of imagining Billie above her, but they were unmistakably intimate.
Billie’s hands under her jumper and her mouth at her throat. Billie tugging her closer by the belt loops on her jeans…
